Behind Closed Doors
by loss4words
Summary: What happens behinds closed doors, remains behind closed doors.  Edward can only handle unresolved sexual tension for so long.  He just needs to get it out of his system, but will he be given the chance?


**SLASH BACKSLASH ONE-SHOT CONTEST**

**Story Name: **Behind Closed Doors

**Pen name: **loss4words

**Pairing: **Edward x James

**Disclaimer: **All things Twilight belong to S. Meyer. This story is mine.

It is rated NC-17 and is very dirty. Consider yourself warned.

**To see other entries in the "SLASH BACKSLASH" contest, please visit the C2: http:/www . fanfiction . net/c2/68069/3/0/1/**

xXx

"Cullen. Come and get this fucking order before it grows cold. I'm not fucking making it again, asshole."

"Jesus, you're a moody bitch tonight, Jimmy," I replied, as tauntingly as possible. He wanted it; he just didn't want to admit it. And by it…I meant me.

"Do. Not. Fucking. Call me that. My name is Jay, or James, nothing else. Got it, Eddieboy?"

_Touché._

I grabbed up my last order for the night and delivered it to its destination. The restaurant was beginning to thin out for the night and it was a long time coming. It had been a long day – I'd worked a double shift – one filled with an absurd amount of sexual tension. I was pretty sure that the person on the receiving as well as the contributing end of that, didn't even fucking realize it was sexual tension.

Fucking closet.

I wished he would see. He needed to see, and tonight, I was going to help him see it.

He was fucking gay. Like it or not, he was gay…and he wanted me.

I was always told I was an attractive guy; blessed with good genes and had always taken care of myself, but I wasn't a dick about it. I wasn't one of those pretty pricks who thought their shit didn't stink and that the world owed them something only because they were attractive. That trait itself made them ugly. While I had known that I was gay for a long time, I'd only had two boyfriends in the last eight years. I wasn't a slut. Really, the exact opposite. I was quite loyal, and if you deserved my respect, you'd get it.

As I rolled some silverware, I noticed that I was blatantly being eyed by my last table, so I quickly printed off their ticket and headed over to them.

"May I offer you anything else this evening, ladies?" I asked.

They giggled and a young brunette with brown eyes blushed.

"I'll take your number," the strawberry blonde replied.

"Shut up, Tanya!" the brunette said quickly, as she elbowed the woman.

I offered them my smirk, the one that gets me excellent tips, and then breaks hearts.

"I'm sorry to disappoint ladies, but I bat for the other team," I divulged, then winked at the brunette.

"It's always the fucking drop dead gorgeous ones," a black-haired girl said, as she shook her head.

The brunette spoke quietly. "We'll take the check, thank you."

I set their check on the table, gave them one last nod, then went to retrieve dirty plates from an empty table. I weaved through the restaurant, into the kitchen, and dumped the dishes on the stainless steel table next to the dishwasher. We let the dishwasher go home earlier in the evening as it had been a slow night. On my way back to the dining room, I wound up my white towel and as I walked past James, who was at the stove, I snapped it at his ass.

The sudden movement of his narrow hips, the way his curly hair that was trapped inside of a band, yet laid in ringlets against his shoulder, was raw, sudden; my pants grew a little tighter. He whipped around at me, glaring as I retreated a step, giving him my crooked smile.

"Nah-ah. We still have customers, _James,"_ I warned and taunted him at the same time as I withdrew into the dining area.

Behind me, James quietly threatened, "You'll be sorry later, Edward."

"I hope I am," I called back as I sidled up to the table with the women waiting to pay.

"I detect some unresolved sexual tension," the mouthy one, Tanya I believe, said.

"Oh, shut up already, Tanya." The brown-haired one seemed to have had her fill of it.

I chuckled because in reality, it was true. I left to run their credit cards and as I waited for them to be processed, I pictured the way James' hips swayed after I snapped him with a towel. It ran as a loop over and over in my head. The printing of their receipts snapped me out of it and I quickly returned to the table, deposited the checks, and removed their plates from in front of them. James was not in the kitchen when I took the plates back.

I heard the bell on the front door jingle and quickly went to lock it, then back-tracked to the service door. Sure enough, James was leaning against the door, looking breathtaking and rugged as he smoked a cigarette.

"You need to quit that shit. Those things will kill you," I chided.

"Among other things. These are the least of my worries; there are much more dangerous things out there," he said as he met my eyes, then stubbed out his cigarette – half finished – and went back inside. I followed him.

"Try not to take forever in your closing duties, Cullen. And if you could, a little help with the dishes would be great."

James went back to the stove and began attack-cleaning it with a metal scouring pad while I headed out front and began wiping down all of the tables, booths and chairs. After they were all wiped - minus one - I went through the front of the house and put all of the chairs up on top of the tables so I could vacuum. But before I could do that, the music needed to be cranked. I went behind the bar and changed the c.d. from that elevator house shit they call music over to my iPod and selected the Scissor Sisters.

"Thank you!" James shouted from the back and I couldn't contain the smile that split across my face from it.

As I vacuumed, I thought about how I was going to do this — and by _this_— I meant make him see, or admit to his feelings. It wasn't about me, I just wanted to hear him _say it._ It's not like I was going to try to make him out himself in the middle of a packed room. It was just me, and while we had never been friends, or even talked, somehow I knew I was the one to help him do this. Besides, there was _something_ between us—some chemistry—and he had denied it for so long, but I was going to make him admit to it tonight.

As I re-coiled the cord on the vacuum, my mind went to his lips and the way he pursed them when he first got an order to prepare. So many times I have dreamt of biting, licking, sucking those lips. My mental eyes traveled lower, to his broad shoulders and the muscles in his arms when he lifted a heavy box in the walk-in. His fucking ass in those jeans that he always wears looked sinful – to die for. _FUCK!_ I need to knock this shit off.

I returned the vacuum to the closet and finished cleaning up the bar area as well as one of the server stations that one of the girls was supposed to have taken care of. When there was nothing up front left for me to do, I headed in back to see what there was left with James.

"The front is done, but before I do any of those dishes, I need to get something to eat," I told him.

"I just cleaned everything, Cullen. I'm not turning it back on," James snapped.

"Oh, just fucking relax. I have a wrap from earlier this evening. You want half?" I offered.

He looked at the garbage can for a second, and then the clock, then finally back to me.

He sighed and said, "Sure. Thanks."

I grabbed the plate with my wrap on it from the salad cooler, and a clean fork, purposely not grabbing an extra for James. He would either grab his own...or use mine; I was curious to see how it would go.

I led him to the table that I had left the chairs off of earlier and set down my plate and the fork. He sat down in the chair next to mine but I headed to the bar instead.

"Drink?" I asked.

"Grab me a can of Dew. I hate that fountain shit," he replied.

I grabbed his drink and a glass of ice water for myself, a couple of bar napkins because I hate water rings, and went back to the table, setting his can down in front of him.

"Ah…thanks, Edward."

"You're very welcome, James." I'd be lying if I said I didn't say that a bit seductively.

James let out a deep sigh and suddenly realized he had no plate...or fork. He looked up at me and had this look on his face that I couldn't exactly explain. Contemplation? No. Hate? No. Want? No. Hunger? Hmmm, hunger. What was he hungering for?

"Are we going to eat or just sit here all night, Pretty Boy?"

I blinked my eyes a couple of times, coming out of the daze. I slid half of the wrap to the far side of the plate and moved the plate so it sat between us evenly. The fork wasn't necessary, but I always liked to have one just in case.

"Did I make this for you earlier?" He asked.

"No. I made it before you got here. I worked a double and it was just after Tyler left. I was going to eat it then, but I got busy," I explained.

"So what are you feeding me, Edward? You aren't going to poison me, are you?"

"If I poison you, then I poison myself, and I'm not ready to die. It's a chicken wrap, with raspberry vinaigrette, red raspberries, blue cheese, red onions and pecans."

He grunted in replacement of words and leaned in a little bit, then took a bite of my food creation. I saw his tongue flick out to lick some of the vinaigrette from his bottom lip and my pants grew tight once again. It would be a miracle if I made it through the night without needing a bathroom break.

I took a bite of my half of the wrap. _Hmm. Not bad._ "So, what still has to be done in the kitchen?"

"Well, I usually have someone closing with me, so it doesn't take too long, about an hour and a half to two hours. If it's just me, it will take a bit longer. I have to do all the stocking, wipe down the coolers, wash the dishes and get those put away and clean the floors for the front and back lines. So yeah, eat up."

James went back to eating his wrap and so did I. We both ate in silence and I wondered what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about me, or rather all of the duties he has yet to accomplish tonight? I hoped that he was thinking of me because there were many times in the evening when I had caught him looking when he thought that I didn't see him.

We quickly finished up our small meal and James stood up from the chair and wandered back to the kitchen without saying a word. Rude? Yes, but surprising? Not at all. I stood up as well and began to shuffle all of the crumbs with the side of my hand, over the edge of the table, and onto the plate. Much to my surprise, James came back out from the kitchen carrying a towel; he didn't meet my gaze. He waited for me to pick everything up before quickly wiping down the table as I carried our mess into the kitchen.

I immediately began to corral all of the dishes that needed washing closer to the sink and hose so that I could rinse them all off before loading them into the large dishwasher. I knew how to use it as I had used it several times in the past when a dishwasher had called in sick and I was urgently called in to fill the absence. This place was like home to me, I had been here for so long.

I heard James come back into the kitchen and make his way back to the walk-in coolers. Some things banged around and I heard him cussing every swear word he knew, and maybe a few he had made up on his own.

I replaced the sprayer to its holder and grabbed a terry cloth to dry my hands, then went back to inspect and see what James' problem was.

"Mother fucking stupid zucchini box. Fuck you, and fuck the tomatoes too," James roared, as I opened the walk-in door.

"Have the fruit and vegetables done something to offend you, James?" I inquired in a teasing tone.

James turned to glare at me stonily and I saw his eyes look at my arms, then travel down, and then back up to my face. I wanted to smirk at him, but instead I bit my lip to keep my face cool. It wouldn't do to piss him off any more right now.

"Help me with something, Cullen?" he asked in a surprisingly nice voice.

"Anything," I replied, and this time, I threw as much innuendo as possible.

He cleared his throat and turned his back to me and spoke. "I need you to hold this box in place while I reach all the way to the back and move out this old box. The day shift has been slacking and not pushing old stuff to the front. That box of beans is rotten."

"Got it," was all I said, and then moved into position in front of the metal racks.

I took James' place and pulled the box out a little way. I wasn't sure why it couldn't just be set somewhere on another shelf or on the floor for a minute, but I did what he asked, not needing another argument. James moved directly in front of me and reached to the back, trying to fish the box of moldy beans out.

That was the moment I became aware of the proximity of his ass to my dick, and let me tell you, it wasn't far. Not far at all.

James grunted a little as he maneuvered his feet a little bit so he wouldn't fall over some crates on the floor. He reached in a little further and I saw his fingers brush the corner of the box; I looked down and watched as his ass brushed along me in the front.

James froze. I froze. And then he did something I never expected him to do, he reached even further, and his ass pushed up against me. Granted, it wasn't low enough to brush _right_ where I wanted it too, but still, it was something.

"Ha! Fuck you box! I gotcha," James declared, quickly pulling the box from the shelf, and ducking under my arms to get out from in front of me. I gaped at him for a moment and then remembered that I was holding a box and pushed it back in.

"Ah, do you need me to do anything else in here?"

"Yeah, take this raspberry and chocolate syrup up to the dessert cooler. Jessica knows that shit doesn't go in here."

I nodded taking the two bottles of syrup from him and exited the cooler. I made my way over to the rolling upright salad cooler that also houses our desserts. It was a mess, which was another job of Jessica's that I was going to have to correct. There was salad strewn everywhere and the lettuce mix was not even covered. _Fucking bitch._ I got to cleaning up the salad cooler and after some time I heard James come out of the walk-in. It was just about the time that I was finishing up with the cooler, so I picked up all the nasty dishes that were in it and carried them over to the sink to add them to the growing pile of dishes to wash.

James added several tubs of dirty dishes that had been sitting in the walk-in for only God knows how long and growing several strains of Penicillin in varying colors. The stack of dishes had gone from thirty minutes of work to two hours of work. I got down to business as James returned to his scrubbing of the stove top burners.

As I washed, I hummed to the music. I had hooked up my iPod before we ate and set it to shuffle. To my great astonishment, James hadn't said a word about my music choice all night long. Actually, I'd heard him singing a long to several of the songs. I mentally patted myself on the back.

I loaded a rack of glasses into the dishwasher and turned back to the mess of dirty dishes that still sat in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James pull a clean dish towel from his back pocket and wipe his face with it. _Oh! So he was hot, eh?_ I grabbed the sprayers from its holder and ducked down a little, aimed it in James' direction, and pulled the handle back. Water shot out from the hose and I had to say, I had damn good aim. The water hit the back of James' neck and hair; he quickly snapped around and glared at me.

James stormed over to me, stopping with his face mere inches from my own. His nose was just in front of mine and I felt the breath leave his lips and hit my face.

"What the fuck is your problem? Are you _trying_ to piss me off, Edward?"

"Not at all, I was trying to cool you off. You looked really…_hot_, James," I replied and bit my lip trying to stifle a laugh.

I watched James as his eyes moved down to my mouth; they looked hungry and wild. He moved his gaze back up and I looked him directly in the eyes. He looked pissed, but I knew that he wasn't; frustrated, yes, but not pissed. He was fighting his feelings for me with all he had.

"Just let it go, James," I whispered.

James moved back away from me a little and began to raise his arm like he was going to hit me. Before he could, I reached my arm out and fisted the front of his shirt, just at his throat, and pulled him back to me, but closer.

"Don't deny me, James." When I spoke, I could feel the warmth of my own breath hit his mouth and come back to my own. We were that close, and it wasn't enough.

I moved my eyes from his and down to his mouth, then back up. In that instant that I looked away, his eyes changed from frustration and anger to want and lust; it was my green light. I slowly raised my hand up to his face and placed it on his chin, tilting his head a bit to the side. His breathing became heavier, as did mine and I moved the last couple of inches and brushed his lips with my own.

One more time, I whispered, "Don't deny me." I smashed my lips to his hungrily. They were soft and warm and at first, he didn't kiss me back. I stopped and pulled my head back to look at his eyes to see them staring back at me. He didn't stop me though, and I moved to kiss him again, this time a bit more gentle. Slowly, I pecked at his lips and along his jaw, while the whole time, he stood rigid. I moved my lips back to his and nibbled slightly at his lower lip. Moving my hand to the back of his head, I pulled the elastic from his hair. I kneaded his neck as I pecked at his lips until finally, he kissed me back— just a little.

He shuddered a little bit and I gripped his hair tighter, pulling it to angle his head a little better. I felt his body loosen against mine as I kissed him hard on the mouth and he moved a little closer to me. I groaned, slipping my tongue out of my mouth a bit and licking along his lips where they met. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth to me and our tongues began to dance. His taste was divine—cigarettes, raspberry, Mountain Dew and him. My head went a little light and I felt his arms move up to grip my own.

James abruptly spun me around and slammed me up against the dishwasher; his hand moved behind my head and our lips met again, hard, smashing and totally hot. He needed me just as I needed him. I knew he wanted me just as I had wanted him for so long – too fucking long.

"Edward," he breathed my name as he ghosted kisses along my jaw. The bulge in my pants grew exponentially at the sound of his voice whispering my name like that.

I pushed James away and he gave me a funny look—a "what the fuck" look. I smiled and once again, grabbed the dish sprayer, quickly aimed it at his face and hosed him. He quickly reached behind me and ripped it from my grip, but not before I was able to soak his face, hair and shirt. He aimed it at me and pulled the trigger, instantly soaking my entire upper body in such close range. I quickly shoved him away from me and he stumbled back against the far wall. I smirked and he lunged at me. We met in the middle and attacked each others lips, kissing furiously and with no holds barred. James began to make noises and I could barely take it anymore.

"More," I demanded. I quickly took his arms and raised them above his head. He said nothing – just watched me as I pulled his plain white t-shirt up over his head. I threw it to the floor and then pulled the bandana from his head; his soft, blonde curls fell around his face. Our lips came together once again; tongues mingled, thrust, tasted, teased. Soon it wasn't enough, I needed more and if his response to me said anything, he felt the same way.

Breaking our kiss, I pushed myself away from James, walking backward out of the kitchen and toward the dining area. He stalked after me, looking like a predator hunting his prey; the look in his eyes was primal, the hungry hunter. I was hungry too.

In a moment he had me pushed up against the bar, pulling my shirt up over my head as he began to lick trails down my neck and chest. He rubbed up against me and I could feel the bulge in his pants brush against my own. He moaned and I leaned in to nibble at his ear, turning his moan into a growl.

"So fucking good," he panted out, as I pulled his head harshly to the side by way of his hair.

I bit along his shoulder and to his nipple which seemed to do him in. He pulled away and took a step back, staring at me.

Then he kneeled down before me—a sight that I never thought I'd see.

On his knees he didn't look up at me, but just at my clothed dick in front of his face. His hands moved slowly to the button on my pants, worked the zipper down, and slid my pants and boxer-briefs down to the floor.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," he said in wonderment before finally looking up at me.

I smirked at him, but before I had the chance to say anything, his mouth had surrounded my throbbing cock.

I moaned loudly as his hot, sweet mouth pumped on my cock and I gripped his hair, needing something to hold on to. I felt cool air all of a sudden and looked down to see him blowing across the head of my dick, then swirling his tongue around my ridge.

"Oh fuck, James! Your mouth feels so fucking good. I need to fuck you." Because yes, it would be me who would be doing the fucking.

James looked up at me for a second, pausing his ministrations to contemplate what I'd said. He removed himself completely then and stood up; maybe he didn't like my announcement. When I thought he had gotten to the point where he was done with all of this, he surprised me by unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the floor. The fact that he was going commando didn't escape my notice...neither did his sizable cock—which may have been a tad smaller than mine, but not by far.

"I don't let many fuck me, Edward. Actually, very few, but I can't deny you. I want you to fuck my ass."

I shivered at his words and my body quivered with need and anticipation. I quickly reached on the other side of the bar where I kept my messenger bag and reached in for my condoms and bottle of lube—never know when you might need them. I pulled the cap off and dispensed a generous amount. I quickly slipped on a condom with the one hand and then coated my rubberized dick with it and looked over at James; he looked at me intensely and turned around, placing his hands against the lip of the bar and stuck his ass out at me. I coated my fingers with more lubricant and slowly swiped them along his crevice, feeling for the puckered skin. I brushed my finger across the skin and James shuddered in front of me and stuck his ass out a little bit more.

My dick was hard and aching for him. I gripped my own shaft, slowly sliding my cock up the crease of his ass and hardened even more—my balls already tight and needy. James groaned in front of me after I teased him—and myself—a bit longer, and finally, slowly, I pushed my throbbing cock into his waiting, tight ass.

He felt so good that I had to restrain myself from pounding into him as quickly and as hard as possible. His ass was so tight around my cock, and I took a moment to pause and steady myself. Ever so slowly, I started to pump in and out of his tight ass. In and out. He moaned, and I groaned.

"Faster, Edward. Fuck me," James demanded, panting.

He wasn't going to hear me say no; I quickly began to pump into him. I bent down and nibbled and bit at his back and along his spine. I took one of my hands from his narrow hips, gripped his hard cock and began to pump it. He grunted and I felt the rumble of his voice move through him—through his back, and against my chest. I pumped his dick harder and faster as I pumped his ass with the same vigor.

"You feel so good, James."

He reached back and gripped my ass, pulling me closer to him; I felt as far into him as I could be and it couldn't have felt any better. My balls began to tighten further and I could feel my release coming soon. I pumped his dick harder as I licked along his spine and bit at the soft flesh on the side of his ribcage.

"Mmm, fuck, Edward!" James roared and I felt him jack into my hand. I continued to pump him until he was empty then moved my hand back to his rigid hip and banged him hard several more times until I could feel myself pulsing deep within him as I came.

I pumped into James a few more times until my dick started to go soft, then put my fingers around the base of my cock, holding onto the condom, and pulled out of his tight ass. I shuddered as the cool air hit my skin after removing the condom, and quickly redressed, which didn't take long with my jeans and boxer briefs just sitting at my ankles.

James also quickly redressed, throwing his jeans and t-shirts back on quickly, then said, "Let's try to bust the rest of this shit out quickly. I've got plans and need to be out of here in less than an hour."

So for the next forty minutes, James and I scrubbed the kitchen and fulfilled our duties. We didn't talk, but it wasn't in some angsty 'I just fucked up' kind of way. He did his thing, I did mine. We sang along to songs that we liked when they came on and finished up our work. I was ready to get out of there, I had plans for the evening that I was looking forward to, and by the way that James had attacked all his duties, he had plans too.

It was kind of funny. I didn't want him anymore. For so long there had been that unbearable tension between us. I wanted him, he knew it. He wanted me, and I knew it, but neither of us dared do anything about it for so long. We had finally fucked and I felt sated; it was out of my system and I could resume the normalcy of work without worrying about a bulge in my pants in front of my customers. A part of me felt really guilty about that, like I had used him, but I also had a feeling that he felt the same way, so if he wasn't upset over it, I shouldn't be either. The guilt was still there, though, I had to talk to him about it.

James picked up the two large garbage bags that he'd set at the back door for when we finally closed the restaurant up. I grabbed my smaller one from the dining area and followed him out. I took one more glance around, making sure that everything was closed up and ready to go. The assistant manager had had an emergency earlier in the evening and had left closing the restaurant to me, something that I had done a couple of times before. Everything looked good so I nodded for James to head out and followed him. The door automatically locked behind us so our shift was done and over.

The dumpsters were around the side of the building and I decided our little walk there would be the perfect opportunity to talk. This was going to be awkward.

"So, ahh, James?"

He looked over at me and chuckled a little bit. "Look, Cullen. I know you thought that I was closeted...I could tell by the way you tiptoed around me for so fucking long. To be honest, at work I was because nobody needs to know my business but me. Obviously, I have some experience here, or I wouldn't have let you fuck me in the ass. Which, by the way, I don't let many men do. Anyway. You don't have to worry about work being weird or anything."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Because tonight was my last night. I'm moving to Vegas," he informed me.

I suddenly felt elated, carefree. It was fun for us both, and now that it was over things would be just fine. "Ha. Well. That's awesome. What's in Vegas?"

"Well, besides it being fucking Vegas, also a great job to train to be a sous chef. It's all I've ever wanted," he told me as we walked back to the parking lot.

"Well, good for you," I told him as I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Without pulling it out, I silenced it as we walked into the lights of the parking lot.

James stopped walking, turned to me, and stuck out his hand. "It's been real, Edward. I never meant to be a dick, but you know how it is. Anyway, good luck to you."

I stuck my hand out and shook his. "And to you too, James," I replied. Just then, I saw movement over his shoulder and glanced around him.

James' motorcycle was parked about ten spaces over from my car and against it, a tall red-headed woman stood. I couldn't see her face from here, but her body was pretty nice looking. She wore a short, blood red dress and high heels with a cropped black leather jacket. I'm sure confusion crossed my face, because in that moment, James laughed.

"That's Victoria, or Vic," he explained, then simply walked away.

James sauntered over to his girlfriend and I found the situation so fucking odd. I hadn't thought he was bi. He'd never alluded to that, but, hey, whatever. I continued to watch them, even as James attacked her mouth. I had to admit, I was a bit confused.

I turned and walked over to my car, ready to reply to my text and get the fuck home. I opened the door to get in, but then heard James call out to me.

"Good luck, Edward. Now go get home to that boy toy of yours," he shouted across the lot to me. My mouth dropped open and Victoria waved to me. I waved back and watched as James climbed onto his bike, and then Victoria turned and I saw her side profile. I couldn't help but focus on her crotch area as she was about to swing her leg over the bike.

Oh. OH! HA! I totally saw a bulge in her lower half. Vic or Victoria. She was a fucking tranny. I chuckled to myself and got into my car as James and Vic tore out of the parking lot, the loud rumble of his bike practically shaking my car.

I pulled out my phone and unlocked it, the screen told me I had four new text messages. I clicked to the screen and found the only text that mattered.

From Seth:

_Are you finished with work yet, Edward? I'm waiting my lover._

Well, I certainly wouldn't keep him waiting any longer.

xXx

Thanks for taking the time to read, and please, don't kill me. My heartfelt thanks to SingleStrand, venis_envy & TexasKatherine for betaing and to all of my lovely WC girls. This was just for fun and will not be continued…but I had a blast writing it!


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